


Who's Santa?

by hestherewithme



Series: Collection of Random Crisscolfer Drabbles. [16]
Category: Glee RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-15
Updated: 2015-02-15
Packaged: 2018-03-13 02:25:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,461
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3364265
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hestherewithme/pseuds/hestherewithme





	Who's Santa?

[Holiday Prompt #18 ](http://daily-crisscolfer-prompts.tumblr.com/post/105563918161/cc-holiday-prompt-18)from [daily-crisscolfer-prompts](http://tmblr.co/mNL83xIf9-g9iN0aglApClw)

* * *

 

 

“You’re spoiling him, you know.” Darren said, shaking his head.   
  


“I most certainly am not.”   
  


“I thought we had a rule. Number of presents should not be more than twice his age.”

“And we’re only six gifts above that number. Twelve gifts on Christmas Day seem perfectly reasonable. It’s fitting.” Chris shrugged as if it were no big deal. 

“You are determined to turn our son into Dudley Dursley, and I am not going to allow it.”

“How dare you?” he gasped.

Darren couldn’t tell if he was feigning shock or if he’d gone too far, but not a moment later the smirk on his husband’s face erased his worries. 

It was past Nicholas’ bedtime and they’d delayed present wrapping until tonight because Chris kept getting more gifts. 

More gifts meant more wrapping paper. Darren had learned not to presume anything while being married to this man. And he loved everything and anything Chris had to teach him.

“Come on.” Chris got up from where he was sitting across the pile of giant gifts, and walked over behind Darren. He put his arms around his neck and nuzzled to his right cheek. “How long do you think we’ll get to do this.”

“Don’t say that. I still get excited every time I get a present from my parents.”

“That’s because you’re somehow still five years old Darren.”

“Well that makes what we did last night really fucked up.”

“Ugh, fine. I take that back.” Chris said, moving backwards, but Darren grabbed his hands before he could go too far and pulled him in for a kiss.

“There’s no mistletoe.” Chris said when they broke apart.

“As if we need that as an excuse anymore.” Darren smiled. 

About an hour later they finished what was ‘ _priority number one’_ , as Darren put it, and then got back to wrapping. 

“Hey. I almost forgot. Who’s gonna dress up as Santa tomorrow night?” Darren asked, putting a green bow on the final gift. 

“Huh?”

“We decided one of us would be Santa and the other would wake Nicholas up at ‘midnight’.”

He finger-quoted midnight because they’d probably wake him up an hour after he went to sleep so he wouldn’t be too tired the next day. 

“When did we have this conversation?”

“It doesn’t matter.” Darren waved, “what matters is who’s Santa.”

“Well. Obviously, it’s me.”

“That’s unfair, what if I wanted to be Santa?” 

“Dare. Honey. I think there’s a whole bunch of reasons why I should be Santa.”

“Name one.”

“Okay. The minute you see Nicholas come down the stairs in his pajamas, rubbing his sleepy eyes, and looking at Santa in awe; you’re not gonna be able to control yourself. You’ll probably chase him down, pick him up and scar him for life. Plus, which one of us can pull off the whole rosy-cheeked, youthful man better?” Chris pointed out.

“Last I checked Christopher, Santa Claus could grow a beard.” Darren expressed his valid viewpoint.

“It’s a massive white beard. You can’t do that either.” Chris exclaimed.

“Yes. But which one of us has a Dumbledore costume in preparation for such a situation?” 

“That would be me.”

“Oh. Right.” Darren squinted confusedly. 

They bickered on for a while about who was going to be Santa for Christmas, but it didn’t lead anywhere.

 When they went to bed, Darren was sure they’d settled on him being Santa. 

And Chris thought the same thing too. 

Luckily, Christmas Eve was the next day, and unbeknownst to the other, both men had snuck out of the house at various times using outrageous excuses. 

But at bedtime the following night Darren quickly changed into the his, overly stuffed Santa costume, along with a large white jumble that would eventually be facial hair. 

Chris was busy reading Nicholas his bedtime story, which he always did, and would continue to do. 

Darren tried to block out what Chris had said. ‘ _Of course I can control myself around Nicholas. And his delightful squeals.’_

But in the slight possibility he’d start crying, Darren would be screwed. He couldn’t stand a the sight; hell, even the  _idea_  of his baby boy tearing up. 

Scared because of him? He would rip off that costume in seconds, childhood memory be damned. There were only two people in the world who’s tears could reduce him to nothing, and he couldn’t be to blame for that. He’d never forgive himself. 

As he carefully tiptoed past his son’s bedroom to his own to gather the presents, he was surprised to find nothing there. 

“Chris.” he whispered to himself.

“Taking the presents is a little immatur—“ he said while walking down the staircase.

He stopped talking because he ran into a copy of his own self. Yes. His husband also decided to dress up as Santa. Apparently they both thought they won that petty little disagreement.

“What the hell are you doing?” Chris said, rather loudly.

“I thought we made it clear I was gonna be Santa.” Darren whined.

“We settled that I was the more appropriate choice.” Chris backfired.

A almost exact replica of the previous night’s discussion took place yet again. And they didn’t realize how loud they were.

“We have to settle this before Nicholas wakes up!” Darren commanded. 

“Poppa? Daddy?” a small voice came from the top of the staircase. 

“Shit. Now’s the time, make your exit.” Chris said trying to playfully shoo Darren away.

“Too late.”

Nicholas was already more than halfway down the stairs. He was getting better at that everyday. Climbing stairs. It was the little things they loved noticing. 

They both stubbornly stood their ground, and waited loyally beside the presents as Nicholas stopped dead in his tracks and stared at his parents. 

“W-Who are you?” voice slightly trembling. Darren tried so hard to control himself there. 

“I’m Santa Claus.” Chris said in an exaggeratedly gruff voice.

Darren had no choice but to improvise, “And I’m…Mr. Claus.” It also took all his restraint not to cuddle him in his soft little Ninja Turtle pajamas. 

Nicholas seemed to want to retreat upstairs, but thought it better to ask permission of his two guests.

“Can I call Poppa and Daddy?”

“Oh, no swee— It’s alright. We wouldn’t want to wake them up.” Chris said, trying to remember exactly what tone of voice he used. 

“You got toys?” their three-year-old said, pointing at the pile of gifts near the tree.

“Well, actually  _I_  did.” Chris started, “but I couldn’t have done anything without Mr. Claus.” 

Darren looked at Chris and tried to resist kissing him. That’s all it took. A few words and everything was right with the world. 

“Are you married to Santa?” Nicholas asked Darren,  _Mr. Claus_ , very pointedly.

“Uhh. Yes. Yes I am.” he answered without giving the question too much thought.

“Like my Poppa and Daddy?”

“Exactly like them.” Chris giggled, and Darren could see his smile and dimples through that outrageous Dumbledore beard. 

They managed to convince their son that he was taller than elves and that he should wait for his parents to wake up before he opened the presents, they enjoyed the batch of cookies Chris had made that morning and carried their sleepy son back to bed. 

After they’d gotten rid of their costumes, they enjoyed a second plate of cookies while discussing just what the hell had happened during the last couple days. 

“Why in the world would we argue about something as stupid as that?” Darren contemplated.

“Doesn’t really matter. We’ll just have to catch ourselves, and each other, from taking anything too far. But if its something as silly as this, I say we let it play itself out.” Chris comforted him. 

“It was pretty funny. And how fucking cute was that conclusion about Mr. and Mr. Claus.”

“That’s definitely going to be an interesting story to tell at a dinner some day.” Chris laughed. 

The next morning Darren woke up to the distant sound of Chris’ laughter. He couldn’t think of a better way to start the day. 

“And then Santa and Mr. Claus took me on the horse that they had. And they went to give me ice-cream. And I saw Gramma and I saw dinosaurs and I saw _spacechips_. I saw so many things Daddy.”

“Mhmmm,  _spacechips_  sound amazing.” Chris said, taking in all of his outlandish tales that must have made some connection between last night’s events and a pretty incredible dream.

“That sounds like quite the adventure.”

“Poppa!” Nicholas said excitedly while waiting for a kiss, which he knew by now usually happened right after Daddy got his kiss first. 

“You wanna know what I did yesterday after you and Daddy were sleepy?”

“Every single word, my little prince.” Darren beamed.


End file.
